Blasted Muggle Contraptions
by heysweet
Summary: "I don’t need people, alright? I certainly don’t need you of all people. End of story. So you can look as pretty as you want and attempt to outsmart me, but I don’t necesssarily think you’re lovely and I’m not admitting to anything.”
1. The Excelsis

  
  
Blasted Muggle Contraptions  
  
Summary: Draco. Hermione. Busted muggle elevator. You rang? R+R!  
Author's Note: Percolating on Sympathy for the- and Real Magic. Fluffalore! Woohoo!  
  
Chapter One: The Excelsis  
  
Hermione, soon to be a seventh year prefect, stuck her fists into the pockets of her red wool overcoat and shivered against the wind. It was unseasonably cold for September. Even for England. She strode down Diagon Alley, nodding at passersby but feeling just a bit out of place in her muggle ensemble. She stopped at a new robe shop called Hip Witch and sighed at the beautiful robes in the window. She could see know what Lavander and Parvati would be wearing every chance they got. Shapely robes with a low neckline cut like the top of a heart, many of them silk and lavishly embroidered. Even if she happened to have the extra cash for such a robe, she wouldn't be able to pull it off. She didn't have a horrible figure, but it was nothing special either. Certainly nothing compared to some of the other showy sixth years. Hermione didn't exactly feel ugly, but she did feel plain. Brown eyes. Bushy brown hair. Not a terribly curvaceous shape. Too many freckles, she thought with a sigh. It was hopeless. Potions were not only an incomplete solution but, according to Hermione's sense of logic, a bit like cheating. If you weren't beautiful, she thought, then you simply weren't beautiful. And she considered it a sort of lie to pretend to be something she wasn't. The truth was that physically, she was invisible. But, she protested to herself, she _was_ visible in other ways, particularly intellectually. And this made up for it. Even if she was lonely and even if she was rather hurt when Harry and Ron talked about _beautiful_ just about every other girl existing on the planet was.  
Loudly.  
Right in front of her.  
Often.  
Enough! She thought to herself. She turned on heel away from Hip Witch... and walked straight ahead to Gimble's Candies where she brought a mixed bag of Bertie Bott's, some normal gummies, Fizzing Whizbees and couple of other interesting candies called Glitter Lip Gumdrops, Thought Pops, Hopping Kisses (which required their own little bag) and Love Bubbles, all of which she brought because she was feeling whisftully and tragically romantic. She nibbled on the gummies and checked her muggle watch to see that she only fifteen minutes to get out of Diagon Alley and meet her parents at The Excelsis Hotel for a fancy lunch (in celebration of her becoming prefect). Her eyes widened and she strode quickly back to the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
****************************************************  
Draco shook the hand of yet another Oh-So-Powerful-Practically-the-Dark Lord's-Right-Hand-Man-Evil-as-They-Come-Death-Eating-Wizard but inwardly rolled his eyes. Another booooring banquet with father and his dull drones, putting on a pretense of innocent respectability at the Le Reche Cafe in the middle of Diagon Alley. The life of a young dark wizard was always the same and not half as exciting as less experienced and less distinguished Slytherines thought it to be.  
_If they only knew_, Draco thought. Because being an up and coming Baddie in the wizarding world was low on glamorous doings like bloodletting or ritualistic sacrifice, for example. But it was very high on, what Lucius liked to call, Draco couldn't count the number of mind numbing conversations in the Malfoy's horseless carriages about who was related to who, and who was a spy in the ministry and who hung who by their pinky toes in exchange for unquestioned allegiance.  
Bla bla bla.  
So many details. So many annoying things to keep in mind that you wouldn't think an evil type wizard like Lucius would give a second thought to.  
Location, location, location, Draco would mouth along with Lucius. I cannot stress, Lucius would say, the importance of, not only property value, but neighborhood demographics as well! Obviously, no servant of the Dark Lord could be seen living anywhere near something like that hovel the Weasley's call home. But neither can they be seen settling down in of those dreary _communal_ townships so popular in Ireland right now. Ambiance is _very_ important. It's all style! That's why you don't see a death eater wearing brightly colored robes. Black only. We have dress codes. And _names_, Draco. Names are crucial! Take our family. Where does the name of Malfoy come from, Draco?  
Draco rolled his eyes and recited,   
And what does it _mean_?  
Bad faith.  
And what does _my_ name mean?  
Light bearer.  
Aha! But it is in reference to...?  
Draco said in a completely flat monotone.  
And _your_ name, Draco?  
Father, I _ know_ what my-  
_Your_ name, Draco?  
Means dragon.  
And it is?  
  
he would say, you see. And we are a model family of dark wizards. Now you cannot get along in the dark wizarding world with a name like, say, Neddy. And for another thing, Neddy means Very impractical. Or Fritz, which sounds quite awful and means, and here Lucius shuddered,   
And then Draco suddenly felt argumentative.  
Draco said, what if a wizard with a silly name _became_ a dark wizard?  
  
It's not _his_ fault he's got some silly name but he still wants to be properly evil, what about that?  
That's not-  
Like take the Dark Lord. Pretty convenient he had the name Tom Marvalo Riddle, isn't it? Just perfectly switched around to I Am Lord Voldemort.' What if he'd had a name like... something ridiculous like... like Bobby Lee Smith, or something. What can you switch that around to?  
It doesn't-  
The Smiley Bobby! That's all I can think of! It switches around to The Smiley Bobby and how silly is that? I suppose you could find _something_ evil in there like seeth' or bite' or... bleet' is in there also. But I'm not sure what you can do with   
You're being nonsensical! I will not have nonsense in my house!  
But, father, we're in a carriage.  
Stop your incessant babbling this instant!  
What I'm _getting_ at is nature versus nurture, father. I mean if you have a name that means bad faith' you're just not _destined_ to turn out a good egg, are you?  
But that's precisely my-  
So really we're all just the products of our environment? What about free will, father?! What about the existentialist struggle?!  
YOU'RE GROUNDED!  
Which was pretty much how most such conversations ended. But that was usually okay with Draco, even in the summer time. He was often able to sneak away in the night anyway. And he only ever had these arguments with this father for the pure entertainment value.  
But at the moment he was _bored_. Insanely bored. But if he could escape from this horrid banquet for a _moment_ he would sneak away. Maybe even out of Diagon Alley, away from the imploring eyes of his father and the suspicious eyes of the rest of the wizard community. He could explore muggle London, which he _never_ got the chance to do. At least not when stores were open. So during a lull in the Draco made a convincing case to his father that he really _had_ to inspect the newly designed snitches that Hogwarts was ordering from Quality Quidditch Supplies just that morning put on display in the shop. His father accepted the excuse and Draco slipped away.  
  
*************************************************  
Hermione, with a few minutes to spare, wandered around the lobby of The Excelsis and attempted not to sulk. There were couples everywhere. Couples in their clever winter coats and lovely muggle skirts and suits. There were couples in the hotel bar drinking Cosmopolitans and discussing the last time they sat in a Hotel bar and drank a Cosmopolitan. There were couples on honeymoons, cooing at each other or arguing about seafood. Hermione tried to imagine herself in one of these couples but she couldn't picture the face of the half of the couple that wasn't her.   
_Great_, she thought, _me and some faceless boy eating scallops on our honeymoon._ _Well... at least there will be scallops.  
_If I could have just one romantic day in my entire life, Hermione muttered to herself, one beautiful, stupid romantic day.  
She sighed and made her way to an elevator. Excelsia, the restaurant at the top of The Excelsis, was on the eighth floor. Hermione rode up the eight floors and got off at what looked like a normal corridor of pastel painted doors. She crept down the halls, through what seemed like a labyrinth, looking for anything looking like a restaurant or bar but all she saw were doors and mediocre paintings. An aristocratic looking old lady stepped out of one room and Hermione approached her.  
Excuse me, do you know where Excelsia is? Hermione asked.  
The old lady laughed and nodded, Yes, dear. It's on the very top floor. The twentieth.  
Hermione thanked her, sighed to herself and tried to find her way back to the elevators but she came to a couple of forks in the hallway, unsure of which direction she'd turned in before. Soon enough she was completely turned around and seemed to be in the dingy back end of the eighth floor.  
There must be stairs somewhere, she thought to herself. I could always climb... ugh... twelve stories?  
Never the less, she found a door that looked like it might lead to stairs and opened it. Instead she found a large windowless room full of paint cans and cardboard boxes. Behind her the door closed, plunging her into darkness.  
Hermione whipped around to open the door, only to find it locked. She yanked on the handle to no avail.  
What kind of a stupid door locks behind you?! She yipped uselessly to herself. The door was not budging and Hermione did not have her wand with her because it was summer. She found a light switch on the wall and was comforted by the light. She could now see that the room went off into hallways behind the boxes.   
Must be another door somewhere, she muttered hopefully.  
Hermione repositioned her shoulder bag and went to explore behind the boxes. Sure enough, she managed to find...  
Another elevator! Perfect!  
Hermione pushed the button and a moment later the doors opened. She stepped inside and looked at the young man leaning against the elevator wall. Her jaw dropped in utter astonishment.  
What are _you_ doing here?!  
*************************************************  
Draco's cloak billowed behind him as he hustled down Diagon Alley toward the Leaky Cauldron.  
_Got to get out of here... must get out of here..._  
Soon he found himself on the other side of the brick wall,outside of the innocent looking tavern and on a muggle London street. Draco took off the rather dodgy looking cloak and folded it over his arm, immediately shivering. It was unseasonably cold for September.  
Even for England.  
_Next time bring a muggle sweater, idiot!  
_It was a tough call, whether to freeze his arse in a black t-shirt and jeans or stay toasty in his Malfoy crest cloak... but he wanted to blend. So Malfoy chose an icy bottom.  
Malfoy took a moment to look around him. Cars and buses zipped back and forth. People walked everywhere. People talking on those... what were they? Sell phones? People carrying briefcases. People listening to music on funny muggle contraptions. An entire world of people getting by _without_ magic.  
_Unbelievable._  
Draco shoved his hands in his pockets, cloak bunched up over his arm and made his way down the street, having no idea where he was going. He wandered into a GAP but quickly got bored. He meandered into an electronics store and become fascinated by televisions. He was looking through the eyepiece of a non-magic camera when he saw the goon. He pointed the camera toward the car stereo section and there was none other then Morfran, his father's current lackey of choice, standing out like a sore thumb in his cloak and looking around, presumably for Draco.  
Draco blurted. He put down the camera and looked up to see that Morfran had already spotted him.   
_Not today, Morfran!_  
Draco turned and gave chase, speeding out of the store past onlookers. He raced down the street and thanked his lucky stars that Morfran was a rather heavy set fellow. Draco ran wildly through crowds of hipsters and businessmen and turned a corner. Up ahead he saw the entrance to a tall modern building that read Excelsis Hotel in large guilded letters over the doors.   
_A hotel, _Draco thought, _surely I could get lost in there!  
_Draco ran inside with Morfran hot on his tail, past a front desk where a concierge in a maroon suit looked up in alarm. He ran into a dining room, knocking into a waiter carrying a platter of crabcakes which went flying in all directions. The waiter was shouting obscenities at him when Morfran barreled into him, sending the tuxedoed little man crashing into an ice sculpture shaped like the queen. Draco sped into the hotel's main kitchen, Morfran catching up to him. Up ahead he saw a pot on a stove full of bubbling red liquid. Draco grabbed the pot without thinking and threw the near to boiling pasta sauce at Morfran, who shrieked like a girl and slipped on a mushroom just as Draco realized that the pot handle had been quite hot and he'd burned his hand. He hissed in pain but kept running, through a door, down a corridor, around a corner, down several corridors and headfirst into an elevator. Dracowide-eyed, whipped around to see no one there. He'd seen these elevator thingies before and he pressed the button, hopping up and down impatiently and blowing softly on his pinkening right palm. The doors opened and Draco pressed the highest numbered button. The doors started to close just as Draco saw Morfran, covered in tomato juice and barreling down the hall. Draco tossed the frustrated wizard a smirk just as the doors shut and made it's way upward.  
Yes, father, Draco said to no one but the elevator, his name is Morfran, which is Celtic for demon.' A good dark wizard's name. Definitely not the sort who has to wonder what he's going to be when he grows up. Pretty much set in stone. No one with a name like Morfran is going to end up being an interior decorator, for example. Ah!  
His hand hurt again and Draco looked at his palm to see a deep pink blotch. He shook his hand rapidly which made it feel worse and blew on it which did no better. He probably knew a healing spell to remedy the situation but just as quickly remembered that his wand was sitting on his night stand... next to his bed...back at home. He slapped his hand to his head in frustration and grimaced.  
  
The elevator was slowing and Draco looked up to see the green numbers in the little black box over the door changing from seven to eight. The doors opened slowly to reveal a young girl in a red coat and black corduroy skirt. Draco looked up just as the girl did and he couldn't contain his surprise.  
  
***************************************************  
What are _you _doing here? Hermione demanded, pushing the button for the twentieth floor.  
The doors shut behind her and Draco crossed his arms, smirking.  
I could ask the same of you, he drawled.  
Hermione just rolled her eyes. Don't be a git, Malfoy. My parents are muggles, of course I'm in the muggle world. And I happen to have an engagement with my parents for tea on the twentieth floor.  
What a truly riveting story, Granger. Draco said in a bored tone.  
I would think that _you_ wouldn't even be allowed _in_ a place like this though, she said, eyes fixed on the screen over the door to see that they'd only just passed the ninth floor.  
Draco scowled,Well, maybe you don't know everything there is to know about me, _mudblood_. _I_ have an appointment on the twentieth too, he lied.  
Hermione shot him a look, the familiar derogatory term having been used by him so often that it barely registered anymore.  
With who? Hermione mumbled, Vice President of Bastards?  
_What_ was that, Granger?   
Hermione didn't reply but looked up to see eleven change to twelve.  
_I can certainly handle a two minute elevator ride with Malfoy_, she thought, _even if he is... Malfoy._  
Draco muttered, I'll have to decontaminate myself after...  
  
_Shudder, shudder, thump, bzzzz, THUMP.  
  
_Draco's sentence went unfinished and Hermione's stomach dropped a little as the elevator made very suspicious noises._  
_The elevator stopped. The doors did not open. The two Hogwarts students looked at the numbers display, only to see it blank. Hermione felt her palms go sweaty and a sense of panic travel through her spine.  
_No... no..._  
What the bloody... Draco was whispering.  
Hermione waited for the elevator to resume but it did not. It just sat there, somewhere between the eleventh and twelfth floors.  
GRANGER, WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE ELEVATOR? Draco shouted.  
Hermione spun around and scowled at the Slytherin.  
It's stuck, she said calmly.  
Oh, simply _ingenious_, Granger, he hissed. I can see _that_. Why don't you _do _something about it?!  
Hermione threw her hands up in the air.  
What am _I_ supposed to do about it?! Hermione snapped. I'm not an elevator repairman! This one doesn't even have a phone to call for help!  
But you're a mudblood, he insisted. You're supposed to know these things! Fix it!  
Malfoy! You're daft! Just because I'm muggleborn doesn't mean I know how to fix a muggle elevator!  
THEN WHAT GOOD ARE YOU?! He screeched. What about your wand?! You get such high marks all the time, you must know how to get us out of this?!  
I don't HAVE my wand! She barked. Why don't you get out _your_ little wand and summon the Dark Lord to get you out of trouble? She quipped.  
Draco kicked the floor and pouted.  
I don't have my wand either.  
Hermione slunk to the floor and crossed her ankles in front of her.  
she said. Then I guess we're stuck here.  
Draco glared at the ceiling and screamed at nothing.  
BLASTED MUGGLE CONTRAPTIONS!  
  
*******************************************  
to be continued...  
REVIEW! YAAAAY!


	2. The Abominable MrDarcy

  
  
  
Blasted Muggle Contraptions  
  
  
Author's Notes: Thank you to all my reviewers! Roasted acorns are always welcome!  
TV shows/films which have featured plot lines involving stuck elevators: Punky Brewster, Chicago Hope, You've Got Mail, ... that's all I can of right now. But there are many more!  
  
  
  
Chapter 2: The Abominable Mr. Darcy  
  
  
Hermione sat on the floor, leaning her head against the wall, her feet stretched out in front of her, her bag in her lap. She stared straight ahead, attempting to get her head around their current predicament.  
  
Three feet to her left, Draco paced (as much as you can pace in an elevator) and finally sat down, as far away from Hermione as he could get, which wasn't far at all, scrunched up in the opposite corner. But he was still restless. He stretched out his legs, then crossed them, then folded them up. Then he stood again.   
  
I can't believe this, Draco said. What did you do to the elevator anyway, Granger?  
  
I didn't _do_ anything to it, Malfoy. I pushed the button for the twentieth floor. What did _you_ do?  
  
_I_ didn't anything! Draco insisted. I was having a perfectly fine ride in this ridiculous muggle box and then _you_ came along!  
  
Well, obviously, Hermione said, standing up with her arms crossed, A hapless little wizard like yourself can't handle a simple muggle contraption. Who knows _what_ you did to it.  
  
I didn't do anything!  
  
Neither did I! Hermione snapped. She kicked the wall in frustration.  
  
Draco rubbed his chin and regarded the shut door. He uselessly attempted to pry the doors apart. Draco proceeded to go spastic and clawed at the door and hit it with his fists.  
  
  
  
Will you _please_ stop freaking out! Hermione protested.  
  
Draco shouted. No, I will _not_ stop freaking out! I'm locked inside a tiny little room with a filthy mudblood!  
  
The tension of the moment caught up with Hermione and her breath caught, tears coming to her eyes. She sank to the floor and put her head in her hands.   
  
_Now, Hermione, _she thought, _be rational. Things like this happen all the time! You can handle this! Don't lose it!_  
  
But the more she told herself not to cry the more she did. Because she had already been feeling rather depressed and because Ron and Harry hadn't owled her in over a week and because of all the people in the whole world to be stuck in an elevator with, it had to be Malfoy. And who knows how long they would be here. And she knew, without a _doubt_, that he would... never... shut up.  
  
Awww, is ickle Hermione a bit upset? Draco mocked. Yes, cry away, Gryffindor. What a baby, he muttered.  
  
Oh, I'm a baby, Hermione said sarcastically. Says the boy screaming at the top of his lungs. Yes, you're _very_ mature.  
  
If I had my wand... Draco hissed.  
  
If you had your wand, we'd be out of here, git, Hermione said rather snippily.  
  
And you would have green scales all over your ugly face, he said.  
  
Hermione snorted, Green scales. That's very original, Malfoy. Why don't you just put horns on my head.  
  
Well, what would _you _do if you're so smart? Draco asked.  
  
_I_ don't hex people, she pointed out.  
  
Of course, perfect Gryffindor, he mumbled.  
  
But if I _did_, she continued, against her better judgment, I would probably hit you with a _vesicacutis_. Give you bubbly skin all over your face.  
  
Draco was slightly taken aback as he considered _vesicacutis_ an excellent choice. Of course, he had no intention of admitting this.  
  
I could always just hit you with the _densuageo_ again. Give you back those lovely beaver teeth. And oldie but a goodie, aye Granger?  
  
Sod off, Malfoy.  
  
Well, I _can't_ sod off, can I? He answered. I'm stuck in here with _you_.  
  
Hermione compacted herself into the corner and put her hands over her ears.   
  
I'm not listening, she whispered.  
  
Hermione stayed like that for what seemed like forever and Draco ranted and hissed and moaned but eventually gave up, folding himself into his own corner and glaring in her general direction.  
  
*************************************************  
  
Hermione started to feel a little better about their situation and held out the hope that Draco would simply remain quiet until help came. She took off her coat, revealing a sleeveless black sweater. She cushioned herself against her coat and then rather surreptitiously reached into her bag and took out a book.  
  
Draco's head immediately snapped up. What's that?  
  
Hermione's blood sugar was low and her temper was rising. She decided to ignore him and went back to reading her book...  
  
_Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne without anger such treatment-  
  
_What _is_ it?! Draco demanded.  
  
Book, Malfoy, she yipped. Or do you inbred sorts know how to read?  
  
Ooooh, Granger, Malfoy cooed. Feisty! _What_ book?  
  
If you _must_ know, it's _Pride and Prejudice_. It's a muggle novel, she answered.  
  
I've heard of it, he said, sounding affronted. Is it as horrid as it sounds?  
  
Hermione sighed and rested the book against her chest. To you, maybe. It's not about torture or genocide or even hostile takeovers.  
  
You're right, Draco admitted. It does sound horrid.  
  
Hermione went back to reading and Draco leaned his head against the wall.  
  
_Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill humor-_  
  
What is it about then?  
  
Hermione shut her eyes and groaned. Why do you care?  
  
Because I'm _bored_!  
  
That's not my problem.  
  
Just tell me what it's about! He insisted.  
  
It's about love, Malfoy. Something you obviously know nothing about.  
  
Draco scoffed.   
  
Hermione continued reading, meanwhile Draco had taken a coin out of his pocket and was spinning it on the floor and then simply tapping it incessantly.  
  
_Hope was entirely over...  
_  
Clack. Clack-clack-clack. Clack.  
  
Would you _stop_ that! Hermione finally exploded.  
  
Draco asked innocently.   
  
Clack. Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-  
  
What do you _want_ from me? Hermione demanded.  
  
I don't know, Draco said lazily. What else have you got in that bag?  
  
Nothing that I'm going to show you, Hermione mumbled.  
  
Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-  
  
_Oh, that abominable Mr. Darcy!  
  
_****************************************************  
  
I want a witch that's naughty, naughty... not just a bitch but a hottie hottie-  
  
One more word of that ridiculous song... Hermione breathed.  
  
And what, Granger? Draco challenged her. Aren't you a pacifist or some such nonsense? Truthfully, he was feeling in better spirits. Because messing with Granger was highly entertaining, much more so then hanging around with Lucius' drones.  
  
I'm reading, Hermione said weakly.  
  
And I'm singing, he retorted. Don't you like The Downbeat Screwts? How bout this...  
  
No, please, Hermione said uselessly.  
  
Two trailer park girls go round the outside, round the outside, round the outside!  
  
Hermione slammed her fists on the elevator floor. You've _got_ to be kidding me!  
  
Guess who's back... back again...  
  
_You_ listen to muggle rap music?? Hermione said incredulously.  
  
Draco laughed harshly. You say that like you know everything about me. You don't know the first thing.  
  
And trust me, I don't wish too.  
  
I've created a monster, Draco rapped. Cause nobody wants- Hey, mudblood!  
  
I am not answering to that.  
  
Fine then. _Granger_.  
  
  
  
Look up! Draco ordered. Look up at the ceiling.  
  
Hermione looked up, just to humor him, to see an elevator ceiling with a tiny little door in the middle.  
  
I bet I could climb through that, Draco said slowly.  
  
And then what? Hermione asked.  
  
I don't know, Draco said, shrugging. There must be some sort of passageway up there.  
  
`Heremione put down her book. It wasn't such a terrible idea. She was mostly upset that Malfoy had thought of it.  
  
she said with a sigh. Fine. But how are you going to reach the ceiling?  
  
**********************************************  
  
Hermione grunted, her clasped hands shaking as they supported the weight of Draco's right foot. Hurry up! I can't hold you much longer!  
  
Draco snorted. That's what _she_ said, he muttered.  
  
He opened the ceiling door and attempted to pull himself up through the rectangular opening.  
  
Draco growled.   
  
Hermione used every ounce of strength in her to raise Draco's foot a few inches higher.  
  
Draco cursed. My shoulders are too wide.  
  
Can I let you down now? Hermione wheezed.  
  
Draco grinned. But Granger, you're in your natural state! So near kissing the foot of a pureblood such as- AAAAGH!  
  
Hermione finished the sentence for him by simply unclasping her hands, sending Draco crashing to the floor.  
  
You were saying? Hermione said happily.  
  
Draco stood and brushed nonexistent dust from his black t-shirt.  
  
That was highly uncalled for, Granger, Draco said sternly. And very cruel. Impressive but cruel.  
  
Hermione wasn't sure whether to feel complimented or aggravated. She opted for aggravation.  
  
Draco stroked his chin and looked Hermione up and down. She was obviously of a much smaller frame then he, who had enjoyed a three inch growth spurt in the last year. She stood at about five inches shorter then he and had those narrow girlish shoulders...  
  
Say, Granger, Draco said slyly. You've got pretty small shoulders...  
  
Hermione's eyes widened. No way, Malfoy!  
  
C'mon, Granger! Don't you want to get out of here?!  
  
I am wearing a _skirt_! She trilled.  
  
Oh, _that_, Draco said, rolling his eyes. Trust me, Granger. I have absolutely no interest.  
  
Hermione simply couldn't resist.  
  
she said, the rumors are true.  
  
Draco fell, quite beautifully, for her bait.  
  
What rumors?   
  
Hermione shrugged. Oh, you know, the sort of rumors that would account for a lack of interest in that sort of thing.  
  
You watch your step, mudblood, Draco hissed.  
  
So you _are_! Hermione said, clapping her hands.  
  
No, I'm not! Draco yelped. You want me to prove it you, right here?!  
  
Hermione smiled sweetly. I'd rather wash Snape's hair for extra credit.  
  
I swear, when we're out of this elevator...  
  
Hermione smirked. Empty threats.  
  
Draco scowled but answered by clasping his hands and shoving them in Hermione's direction.   
  
he ordered.  
  
A minute later, the shoe was on the other foot... er, the other shoe was on the other hand. Hermione agreed due to her strong desire to get out of this situation and on Draco's dubious word that he would not look up. Draco was able to lift her quite high and Hermione fit her shoulders through the hole, settling her hands on top of the elevator and inspecting the shaft. Draco, inexplicably, actually kept his word and stared instead at her shoe. It was a little black leather shoe with a buckle and inside it was a girly little foot in a girly little white sock. It was highly tempting, on Draco's side of things, to follow that shoe to the cuff of that sock and up that smooth almost tan leg and-  
  
A little higher?! She hollered.  
  
Draco lifted her higher easily and Hermione managed to climb up through the hole and found herself standing on top of the elevator. It was eery. Dark and nothing too interesting around. No doors, nothing to climb other then the cables holding the elevator and that was quite impossible. She stood there for a full five minutes, considering every option, only to find that there were none.  
  
Draco shouted up at her.  
  
There was nothing. _Nothing!_  
  
She crouched down and talked through the hole in the ceiling.  
  
There's nothing really, she said defeatedly. Nothing to climb... no doors.  
  
Draco stomped his foot.   
  
He looked back up to see Hermione looking worried.  
  
He asked.  
  
she said. How do I get back down?  
  
Same way you came up, idiot, Draco said easily.  
  
Hermione, feeling very self conscious and quite ridiculous, backed herself through the hole, finding Draco's hand with her foot. Unfortunately, Draco was simply _forced_ to look up... for balance and all.  
  
Draco whistled. Merlin, Granger! I can see your Gryffindor _ass_ets from here!  
  
Hermione, quite put out, proceeded to shriek and kick Malfoy in the face with her free foot, causing him to lose his hold and they _both_ went crashing to the ground. Hermione sat against the wall, rubbing a sore knee and scowling at Malfoy.  
  
Perverted git.  
  
Malfoy rested his elbows on his knees and smiled an all too satisfied smile.  
  
Don't be silly, I'm a perfectly normal teenage git.  
  
***********************************************


	3. The MWord

  
  
  
  
**Blasted Muggle Contraptions  
  
Chapter 3: The M-Word  
  
Author's Notes:** I know you all love The Downbeat Screwts. Included in this chapter are a couple of verses from Naughty Witch.**  
  
**  
The problem was this. Hermione had been huddled up in her corner for a half hour, silent in her righteous indignation.   
  
And she was hungry.  
  
Difficulty being, she had a large stash of candy in her bag, but if she took it out, Draco would see it. And Hermione had no intention of sharing her sugar.  
  
So to speak.  
  
But her stomach was rumbling and if Draco couldn't hear it, she could. So Hermione, as surreptitiously as possible, slipped her hand into her bag and nabbed a glitter lip gumdrop. She glanced at Draco who was staring at the wall, looking a little crazed. Hermione popped the gumdrop into her mouth and chewed slowly. The gumdrop was pink lemonade flavored and very good.  
  
Of course Draco heard her. His head turned and his eyes shot wide open.  
  
You've got food! Draco accused.  
  
Hermione grimaced. It's just sugar, she said. Nothing of real nutritional value.  
  
You've been holding out on me, Granger!  
  
It would probably just make you hungrier! Hermione cried, not sounding at all convincing.  
  
So the perfect righteous Gryffindor hides food from a starving man in a dire situation! Draco said dramatically.  
  
You're not starving, git. Hermione said. We've only been in here a couple of hours.  
  
Draco shrieked. C'mon, mudblood! I want food! Hand it over!  
  
Hermione just gawked at him. You've got a lot of bloody nerve, she whispered.  
  
Draco just sighed heavily and leaned his head against the wall. What now? he asked.  
  
You want me to share _my_ food with you and then you go and call me... that _word_, she said bitterly.  
  
I could just come over there and take it myself, he said in a voice that he hoped sounded threatening.  
  
Hermione just laughed. I'd like to see you try it.  
  
Draco started to say something and then he frowned and his eyes widened. he said. Your lips are all glittery! Have you got gumdrops?!  
  
Hermione shut her eyes in frustration and felt herself giving in. It wasn't fair, she thought. Was this not fate giving her the perfect opportunity to get revenge on a bully? But no. It was just plain wrong to withhold food at a time like this. Even if it was... Malfoy. However, it wouldn't be totally out of bounds to ask for something in return.   
  
Hermione said thoughtfully. I'll give you half of the gumdrops. But you have to do something for me.  
  
Draco squirmed. At the mercy of Granger?! Was there no justice in the universe?! He wondered what she would want from him. She probably wanted him to do something humiliating to get revenge. Or make him promise that he would never hex Harry or Ron again or make him do something _really_ degrading like carry her books for her or , Merlin forbid, be kind to house elves.  
  
What is it? he asked in a pained voice.  
  
Hermione sat to face him, her coat and her bag in her lap. She fixed him a with determined gaze, holding the bag of gumdrops in her hand.  
  
You have to promise me, she said, her voice shaking just a bit with intensity. You have to promise me that you will never call me that word again. _Never._ Never again.  
  
Draco was all prepared to lash out at her outrageous demands and took a breath, about to shout but let it out just as quickly.  
  
That is- he started to say. That's _all_?   
  
Hermione looked completely straight faced and nodded. Draco was taken aback. He wasn't sure how to respond to this. She was being so... _serious_. He told himself that it was alright. That she was just being a lousy negotiator. After all, he was so desperate for sustenance at this point, he probably would have agreed to more. And she just wasn't any good at making deals. Why didn't she want some kind of revenge? Why didn't she want to slug him or make him bang his head against the wall or spit in his face? Why didn't she ask him to give her money later? That's certainly the sort of thing he would've done. And then he couldn't be sure what he was worrying about. _What_ was he assuring himself was alright? What was he trying to convince himself of?  
  
Draco was thinking all this while glaring at Hermione who was annoyed at his hesitation.  
  
Do you promise? she demanded.  
  
he said quickly, almost forgetting what he was promising. Her eyes were so fiery. And her lips were so... glittery. Hermione sat back and took a breath.  
  
she said. She sat sideways and spread out her coat, emptying out the gumdrops. Draco watched as she separated them into two equal piles.  
  
You'll ruin my reputation, you know, he said, falling back into his drawl.  
  
And what a crying shame that would be, Hermione said dryly. She shoved his gumdrops over to one side of the coat and Draco ate them one at a time, savoring each.  
  
Is that why you did it? Draco asked, almost hopefully. That makes sense.  
  
What makes sense? Hermione asked, with a mouth full of lemon gumdrop.  
  
Draco rose his eyebrows arrogantly, fully prepared to explain Granger's strategy to Granger and let her know that _he_ knew what she was up to.  
  
he said, at first I thought you were just a rotten negotiator. If it were me, I would do something nice and terrible. Like make you promise I could hex you in front of the school or something. But this is much more subtle. This way, I'm cornered the next time we have a confrontation at school. You want to humiliate me so that I'm standing there unable to call you... the m-word. Powerless before all my friends. And they'll think you have something over me. Masterful stroke, Granger. I must applaud you really. But don't think you'll get away without some retaliation.  
  
Granger just stared at him and blinked. She shook her head and leaned back against he wall.  
  
she said. You've got the most duplicitous mind I've ever had the unfortunate opportunity to see put into action.  
  
Flattery will get you nowhere, Granger, Malfoy said sweetly.  
  
Hermione sucked on a lime drop and crossed her ankles in front of her.  
  
It's not to humiliate you, Malfoy, she said. I could care less about humiliating you. I just hate that it! Draco watched her. The mere thought of it seemed to be getting her riled up. I _hate_ it! And I hate it when you call me that!   
  
Draco shouted back. Well, I can't anymore can I? I just promised I wouldn't.  
  
Please tell me a a Malfoy keeps his word, Hermione said. I haven't laughed all day.  
  
Sometimes we do, Malfoy grumbled.  
  
If it suits your purposes, Hermione finished for him.  
  
She was right. Draco knew that and he had never apologized for it. He didn't want to start.  
  
Hermione went on,I can see you now. You're right. You and Harry and Ron would get into yet another little stand off. And there I'll be and you'll have to call me a mudblood. Couldn't risk losing the respect of the other Slytherins.  
  
That's not why the Slytherins show me respect, Draco said scowling. Just because I call people names...  
  
Then why do they? Hermione challenged.  
  
Because I _command_ it, he said.  
  
You mean your money commands it, she answered. Your money and your father.  
  
You don't know anything, Granger! Draco shouted. I wouldn't need my money or my father to get the respect of anyone! And I wouldn't even need to bully anyone either!  
  
Then don't! she barked.  
  
he shouted. I won't!  
  
she said quietly.  
  
Draco sat back, huffing and then frowned.  
  
_What the bloody hell did I just agree to??_   
  
Draco looked up to see that Hermione was laughing. She was gazing at him and giggling, her lips still puckered around a pink gumdrop.  
  
  
  
You're lips are glittery, she said.  
  
**********************************************  
  
Draco was singing again.  
  
Saw her walking down the alley one day,  
what do I gotta do to make that one stay?  
Magic birds have pretty feathers  
I like it when they wear tight leather-  
  
Will you shut up? Hermione begged him.  
  
he said quickly and continued.  
  
She said, hey, hey baby, is that a wand in your pants?  
Let's get together, do the dirty wizard dance-  
  
SHUT UP!  
  
Feel good pain like a feel good hex,  
cause all night long we make the feel good- Granger!  
  
Draco's graphic verse was interrupted by the book that Hermione had thrown at his forehead. Truth be told, Draco was only singing to attempt to distract himself from wayward thoughts. Thoughts of what he'd glimpsed under Granger's skirt. He was also trying to figure out a way to get the rest of the food she was hiding. He had heard that bag rattle when all the gumdrops spilled out. She was holding out on him. Or more likely, she had some very practical Gryffindor idea of rationing. Either way...  
  
I told you to shut up, Malfoy, she said threateningly.  
  
So Granger, Draco said slowly and slyly and Slytherinly as he set her book in his lap, white cotton with red flowers? How apt.  
  
Hermione looked confused. What are you... she started to say.   
  
The girl turned a distinct shade of maroon and scrunched into her corner.  
  
Don't talk about that, she hissed. Don't even think about it. I can't believe you _did_ that.   
  
It drove Hermione to distraction, the idea of it.  
  
I couldn't _not_, he explained.  
  
It's called self-control, Malfoy, she said.  
  
Malfoy thought about self-control for all of half a second and then his mind returned to a certain pair of cotton bikini-cut knickers that fit just right. And those legs... Not that he particularly wanted to do anything about it. It was impossible. Besides, he didn't _like_ her. She was _Granger_ and always would be. Granger the mud- the muggleborn. But still. Girl were girls were girls were girls...  
  
Poor Weasley... Draco said with a sigh of deep implication.  
  
What's Ron got to do with this? Hermione said, scowling.  
  
Oh, c'mon Granger, Draco said, laughing. Hasn't he been trying to get into your knickers since fourth year?  
  
Hermione shrieked.  
  
I've probably gotten more action with you in this elevator then he ever has, Draco muttered.  
  
Hermione moaned. Why don't you leave me alone? Ron and I don't even... he doesn't even think of me that way! So shut up about it.  
  
Now Draco was even more interested.  
  
Of course, he does, Malfoy said calmly. You just don't know about it. Weasley's obviously too chicken.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and stretched her feet out.  
  
It has nothing to do with being chicken. He's never been scared of asking out anyone else. We just don't like each other that way, okay?  
  
Draco thought for a moment and then his eyes lit up.  
  
Ah! Then it's Potty, is it? Draco said. Should've known really but-  
  
Hermione said through gritted teeth. He doesn't... they just don't... it's platonic. That's all. Why am I telling you this?! she shrieked.  
  
So neither Potter or Weasley have ever put the moves on you? Draco asked incredulously.  
  
He was starting to upset her, twisting the knife as he was and Hermione squelched those familiar feelings and smoothed her skirt over her knees.  
  
she said. They haven't put the moves' on me as you say. And it's none of your business anyway!  
  
But I'm bored, he explained. I don't understand this at all... he grumbled. Oh! Are they gay?  
  
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the thought.   
  
Good God, no! Hermione said laughing.  
  
I knew they were always too cozy in those Gryffindor dorms! Draco declared. No wonder they like their broomsticks so much...  
  
  
  
So the Gryffindor colors are really _pink_ and gold are they?  
  
Hermione couldn't talk for laughing, between the sugar of the gumdrops and Draco's unexpected humor. He was really quite funny, she realized, when he wasn't being a slimy git.  
  
Why would you think they're gay? Hermione asked, still breathless with laughter. It was a strange moment. For just this minute she'd forgotten who he was.  
  
he started to talk and stopped himself. He knew why, he knew the implication but he found himself simultaneously denying and realizing it. I don't know, he finally spat out. They have an air about them.  
  
Hermione too was confused.  
  
_He couldn't think that I'm... that just because they haven't... he can't possibly think of me like...   
  
Can he?_  
  
*****************************************  
  
Just give me back the book, Malfoy.  
  
Hold on a sec, I'm reading, Draco mumbled, brow furrowed as he plowed through Austen.  
  
I thought you said it sounded boring, she pointed out.  
  
Draco grunted.  
  
You're only reading it to annoy me, Hermione huffed.  
  
It's not always about _you_, Granger, Malfoy said breezily. Besides, I want to see who this Bennett girl ends up with.  
  
Hermione was only too pleased to ruin the ending for him.  
  
she answered. Now give it back.  
  
Draco grimaced and tossed the book in her direction.  
  
Just wreck the whole novel for me, he said. Thought she hated Darcy.  
  
Hermione strummed through the book, looking for the last page she'd read.  
  
She does at first, Hermione explained. He's an arrogant snob. Very obnoxious and he looks down on her for being of a lower class. And she's sort of prejudice against him for being the rich git that he is and doesn't give him much of a chance. But they come around.  
  
Thank you, professor, Draco sighed.  
  
You asked! she trilled.  
  
Actually, I didn't, he snipped. But I suppose I don't have to read it now.  
  
What _do_ you read? Hermione asked idolly.  
  
Draco rubbed his eyes and yawned before answering.  
  
The usual... he said. _Raping and Pillaging for Dummies_... _The Idiots Guide to Death and Destruction_.  
  
Hermione laughed again, a pleasant lilting sound that bounced in the acoustics of the small space. Draco looked at her, his ears perking up involuntarily. He was surprised when she laughed at his jokes. He'd always thought of her as another dully humorless Gryffindor.  
  
And you, Draco continued, you probably have that _Hogwarts a History_ memorized. Right up your alley. Volumes one and two, I expect.  
  
There's a volume _two_?!  
  
************************************************  
  
It's impossible.  
  
  
You're just scared that I'm right, Draco said haughtily.  
  
  
I think the sugar has gone to your head.  
  
  
Draco shrugged. Then why don't you take off your shoes?  
  
I'm not taking my shoes off for you, Malfoy!  
  
Fine then, I'll take mine off, he said casually, starting to unlace his boots.  
  
she shrieked. Don't! Your feet will smell!  
  
Draco gave a her a look. Don't you enchant your sock against odors?  
  
Hermione said, her cheeks reddening slightly.  
  
I doubt they smell anyway, he mumbled.  
  
This is ridiculous, she said. There's no way our feet are the same size!  
  
How can you tell? he asked simply. I've got on big manly boots and you've got on those little... girly shoes of yours.  
  
But your a whole head taller then I am! she protested. If they were the same size, it would mean you have freakishly small feet because I know mine aren't too big.  
  
Draco took off his boots and stretched out his legs, wiggling his black socked toes.  
  
C'mon, Granger, he pleaded. I won't stop bugging you until you do.  
  
She knew he wouldn't. I think you're mad, she said. But she unbuckled her little girly shoes and stretched out her legs like he had.  
  
Let's see... Draco muttered. He scooted over so that they were sitting on opposite sides of the elevator, legs stretched out, feet pressing against each other.  
  
What're you doing? Hermione asked suspiciously.  
  
Looking at our feet, he answered simply. Yours aren't _that_ much smaller then mine.  
  
But they aren't the same size, she pointed out.  
  
I didn't think they were, he said. But I did get you to take off your shoes.  
  
Hermione couldn't help but smile and shake her head. You're weird.  
  
he countered. I'm just a guy. And you know guys are only after one thing... we just want to get into your socks.  
  
Hermione was laughing again and Draco grinned. He was liking the feeling he got when he made her laugh. It was satisfaction, which he felt when he tossed out a particularly witty insult, but this was a different flavor of satisfaction. This felt... warm. Draco knew this was all wrong. But he was starting to forget the world outside of the muggle contraption. So Draco didn't think. Instead, he made her laugh again. He moved his foot and tickled the bottom of her feet with his toes.  
  
Hermione giggled.  
  
Draco wiggled his toes and hit a sensitive spot so that Hermione shrieked and pulled her feet back.  
  
What're you doing? she said, still laughing, with a look in her eyes that Draco decided to take as a challenge.  
  
he muttered. He got on his knees and crawled over to Hermione who was again scrunched up in the corner.  
  
Hermione said quickly.  
  
But Draco didn't listen, instead he grabbed for her feet and tickled them ruthlessly so that Hermione fell on her back, laughing and flailing wildly.  
  
Wah! Draco, stop! she cried, tears forming in her hysteria.  
  
Oh! Now it's Draco is it! He shouted, exuberant. He attacked her stomach with tickles and Hermione squealed and weakly attempted to push him away.  
  
No! No! Wait!   
  
Draco just grinned and continued his tickle attack.  
  
Sorry, what was that, _Hermion_e?  
  
  
  
Your lips say no, but your eyes! They say yes! He said in a lousy French accent.  
  
Draco did stop finally, and found himself in an intriguing position. She was lying on her back and he was crouched over her, on his knees, his palms on either side of her head. She was still laughing and he watched with interest. Her laugh went from loud and lilting to throaty. Her cheeks were rosy. Her eyes were sparkling. Her lips were still glittery. And her chest was... heaving.  
  
I've got more candy! Hermione blurted.  
  
Draco blinked.   
  
Hermione pushed Draco off of her and sat up. She had sensed a moment coming. A moment of some kind. A moment she most certainly did _not_ want, particularly with Draco of all people.   
  
With Malfoy.  
  
That's what she meant.  
  
With Dra- with Malfoy!  
  
_It couldn't have been a moment. Malfoy hates my guts. And I hate his.  
It must be the lack of oxygen._  
  
Some things called Thought Pops, she said breathlessly. In my bag.  
  
Very well, Granger, Draco said, running a hand through his tousled hair. Gimme your sugar.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
This is blackmail.  
  
It's not blackmail, Hermione said, if I'm _giving_ you something in return for information.  
  
Then it's entrapment.  
  
You don't even know what that means.  
  
Well, I refuse.  
  
You haven't even heard the question!  
  
Spit it out then, Draco said dramatically.  
  
Are you going to be a death eater?  
  
Draco was taken aback. He eyed her. She was staring at her red overcoat, the collar of which she twisted in her hands.  
  
he sighed.  
  
I just don't get it, she said. He could hear the earnestness in her voice. It's not as if you don't know what he's capable of. I mean, I know you're sort of a git, Malfoy. But are you _evil_?  
  
Aren't I? he said dryly.  
  
I'm serious! she cried.  
  
You're always serious.  
  
But Hermione wasn't listening to jokes right now.  
  
Do you really think that muggles all deserve to die? she demanded. Or that _I_ deserve to die?  
  
I dunno, he mumbled.  
  
You don't know?!   
  
I don't know! he insisted.  
  
How can you not know?! She shouted. How can you throw your life away on some nonsensical ideology and not even know why?!  
  
I'm a Malfoy, Granger, Draco said, echoing his father. That's what Malfoys _do_.  
  
But what about free will?! Hermione exclaimed. What about the existentialist struggle?!  
  
Draco was getting hot under the collar. She seemed to be reading his mind in some ways and it was really ticking him off.  
  
It's not _about_ that! He snapped.  
  
Then what is it about? she pressed. What could be worth hurting people for no good reason? What-  
  
It's about power, Granger! Draco finally exploded.  
  
Hermione said, as if she'd never heard of the word.  
  
Well, what do you think? He said, exasperated. Just how absurdly naive are you? Of course it's about power!  
  
Only about power? she asked.  
  
he said, shrugging.  
  
But that's so stupid! she cried.  
  
Power is the only real commodity, genius. You're smart enough to know that, he said.  
  
No, it's _not_, she said forcefully. Draco was stricken. Power is an illusion, she said. People want to be gods... people want to be immortal. And inevitably they fail. But has anyone learned from it? No!  
  
Draco was entranced. And confused.   
  
Well, thankfully we have Professor Granger to teach us, Draco spat. Since you know everything.  
  
I don't know everything! She said, throwing her hands up in the air. I just know that power is not the meaning of life!  
  
Then what is? He challenged.  
  
she said, as if _that_ were obvious.  
  
Draco curled his lip. He snarled.   
  
  
  
You're daft.   
  
He didn't know about love, she realized. What could he possibly know about any kind of real love?  
  
Have you ever loved anyone? The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think about them. I don't just mean romantically.  
  
Draco didn't feel like playing anymore.  
  
Don't try to change me, Granger, Draco warned her.  
  
I wouldn't know where to start, she said honestly.  
  
It's just so cliche, he said, drawing knees up in a defensive position. The tortured would-be death eater reformed by a brainy but beautiful mud- muggleborn.  
  
Hermione blushed. He'd just complimented her and didn't even realize it.  
  
_He thinks I'm beautiful..._  
  
Are you going to be a death eater? She asked again.  
  
I don't know, he said through a clenched jaw.  
  
Draco felt something hit his leg and looked down to see a caramel flavored Thought Pop at his feet.  
  
What're you doing with Thought Pops anyway? He asked.  
  
I don't know, she said. I've never had one. What do they do?  
  
You suck on it and it makes you blow smoke when you breathe out and the smoke forms whatever thought you're thinking or feeling above your head, Draco said.  
  
she breathed. How strange.  
  
I don't think... Draco started to say. He frowned.  
  
Let's try it, Hermione said. Come on... Draco?  
  
She kept surprising him.  
  
It was quite annoying.  
  
But Draco wasn't one to back down and nodded. They unwrapped their respective Thought Pops and stuck them in their mouths. Draco's favorite flavor happened to be Caramel but he sucked on the candy joylessly and stared away at the floor. After a time he glanced up to see Hermione raising her eyebrows in expectation. Draco nodded and Hermione exhaled. Her Thought Pop was grape and so purple smoke blew from her mouth and drifted over her head where they both looked to see it form a sentence.  
  
_I'm lonely_, the smoke read. Hermione gasped a little and backed up against the wall, blushing terribly. That's not what she had been _consciously_ thinking. She had been thinking something along the lines of, _please don't become a death eater._ But Draco had failed to mention that you couldn't control what the smoke would say.  
  
Draco held the smoke in his mouth. This was not a wise idea, he knew. He didn't _want_ Granger to know what he was feeling. Especially now. But it was too late now and to swallow Thought Pop smoke could be extremely dangerous, so Draco winced and exhaled. Toffee colored smoke streamed from his lips and curled up over his head where it formed two words.  
  
_Me too..._  
  



	4. The Emotional Baggage of Draco Malfoy

  
  
Blasted Muggle Contraptions  
  
Chapter 4: The Emotional Baggage of Draco Malfoy  
  
Draco avoided Hermione's eyes and tentatively licked at his Thought Pop. She was looking at him thoughtfully. It was making him uncomfortable. He let the silence sit there like a dead animal in the room until he couldn't stand the tension anymore.  
  
he said, look, I'm not doing this.  
  
She looked completely confused. Doing what? she asked.  
  
This! This! He said insistantly. I'm not going to bond with you and tell you all about death eater's angst or whatever just because we're trapped in a small space! And I'm certainly not going to council _you_ just because your best friends are dolts.  
  
I didn't even say anything! She yelped.  
  
Well, don't! He hissed.  
  
I won't.  
  
Probably want me to talk to my inner child or something, he grumbled.  
  
Inner child?! She asked, laughing.  
  
I've seen Oprah! He yipped, grinning despite himself.  
  
Hermione laughed harder and seemed to fall into a fit of giggles so that she slid to the floor and lay on her side, breathless with laughter. Draco watched her, smirking.  
  
What's so funny? He finally asked.  
  
Hermione flopped onto her back, her hair splayed out in all directions as she stared at the cieling, a goofy grin on her face.  
  
She started to say, still laughing. Draco M-Malfoy... t-talking about... his... inner child!  
  
The thought threw her into another fit and Draco couldn't help chuckling along with her.   
  
Stuff that, Draco said easily. I could talk _to_ my inner child... Draco rolled his eyes to the cieling and appeared meditative. Hello... little Draco. How are you feeling today?  
  
Hermione clutched her chest and shrieked with laughter.  
  
You don't want to be a death eater do you, little Draco? Draco went on. You've just got emotional baggage is all.  
  
Emotional baggage! Hermione squealed.  
  
Draco said seriously. The trunk of sadness... the knapsack of insecurity...  
  
Oh my God, Draco... Hermione said, still giggling.  
  
She calmed down and sat up but her cheeks were still very flushed and she fanned her face with her hands to cool herself.  
  
Draco said innocently.  
  
You're so funny! she said matter of factly.  
  
Draco was taken aback. Did you just compliment me, Granger?  
  
It surprised him because it wasn't an accident and it wasn't even backhanded. It was an actual nice thing that she was saying to him. And he hadn't even done anything to earn it... except not call her names.  
  
she said, as if it were no big deal.  
  
Draco nodded and couldn't think of anything to say to her ready admission. Unknowingly he was sucking on the Thought Pop and soon his mouth was full of caramel smoke which, if swallowed, would require at the very least a healing spell. Draco's eyes widened as he realized that if he let his breath out he risked exposing more of this emotional nonsense to Hermione. Draco kept his mouth shut as his mind quickly ran over what the Thought Pop might reveal...  
  
_I don't really want to be a death eater...  
  
I'm exceedingly jealous of an orphan with glasses and lousy hair...  
  
My father sold his soul for five hundred galleons to a carnie from Prague...  
  
_The problem with Thought Pop smoke was that it expanded in your mouth to force you into exhaling. Hermione, who'd been careful not to close her mouth around the lollipop, looked up to see Draco's cheeks puffed out, his eyes shifting nervously.  
  
Shouldn't you exhale? She asked.  
  
Draco grimaced and shook his head petulantly. His cheeks puffed out further and Hermione's eyes widened as his complexion turned rather purplish.  
  
Draco, exhale! She shouted.  
  
Draco shook his head, his hair flying about.  
  
She said. You're going to pass out!  
  
Draco slammed his fist on the floor and finally let his breath out in a huff, panting for air and wincing in anticipation at what the Thought Pop smoke would say he was thinking. Suddenly he was tackling Hermione attempting to cover her eyes.   
  
She yelped. She pulled his hand from her eyes as the smoke started to form words.  
  
I don't want you to see it! He insisted.   
  
You're so dramatic, she said as she looked up to see the smoke making a sentence.  
  
It said,  
  
_I think you're lovely.  
  
_Draco looked horror stricken and the two froze for a moment. Hermione blushed deeply. _LOVELY_?  
  
He was still almost falling on top of her, she still gripping the hand that had tried to cover her eyes. Draco pulled away.  
  
He gritted his teeth and threw his Thought Pop at the wall in fury.  
  
Those things are defective! He said weakly.  
  
Are they? she said dryly.  
  
Draco stood up and glowered down at the girl.  
  
I do _not _think you're _lovely_, he said, sneering the last word.  
  
It certainly doesn't matter to me what you think of me, Hermione said, lying through her teeth.  
  
Draco glared at her. Oh, don't try that little game with me, he said.  
  
Hermione looked the question.   
  
You know exactly what I mean, he went on. Don't do that aloof thing girls do, pretending you don't care what I think and then tricking me into telling you.  
  
Hermione blinked.  
  
Draco said, gesticulating wildly. Because there's nothing to tell. I don't think you're lovely. I don't think anything of you.  
  
Hermione made herself comfortable as she watched Draco make a fool of himself.  
  
And don't do that pouty lip thing you're doing either! Pouty lips won't make _me_ admit anything. Slytherin girls _invented_ pouty lips. I'm immune.  
  
Hermione rose her eyebrow, quite amused as she had not been doing anything particularly pouty with her lips to her knowledge.  
  
Don't deny it, he said emphatically. You're clearly trying to look all pouty and pretty. Well, you're very good, alright? But _I'm_ not going to fall for it.  
  
Hermione couldn't manage to stifle a smile.  
  
And now, he said, you're going to say, oh Draco, you can trust _me._ Oh Draco, you can tell me _anything_. I've heard all that before. From Pansy and Blaise, Lavander, Parvati bla bla bla. And then they tell everyone or they don't care in the first place. It's all a game.  
  
Hermione looked momentarily surprised.  
  
Yes, Hermione, Draco said, I've corrupted Gryffindor. On second thought, no, those Gryffindor girls were corrupted when I _got_ there. Fine, so you don't stoop to those patronizing little tricks. You're obviously smarter then that.  
  
Hermione tilted her head in interest. Draco slid down the wall to a sitting position on the floor and continued to rant and grumble.  
  
Try to talk to those idiotic girls about anything other than those hokey Divination classes and you completely lose them. He looked at Hermione seriously. Can you imagine me trying to explain to Pansy that no, I don't particularly want to become a death eater, that I've seen death and it's not particularly fun? Do you think she understands that? And it's not just the death thing, it's just that I hate, _hate_ the idea of having no choice in my future, you know?  
  
Hermione looked taken aback and intensley interested. But Draco still seemed completely oblivious to what he was confessing.  
  
Maybe there actually is something else out there, he said, beginning to sound almost hoarse. Not _love_. I am not lonely, Gr-Hermione, even though you may be. I don't need people, alright? I certainly don't need you of _all_ people. End of story. So you can look as pretty as you want and attempt to outsmart me, but I don't necesssarily think you're lovely and I'm not admitting to _anything._  
  
Draco finally stopped talking and sat back though his expression revealed a vague awareness that he had just confessed everything and that she had somehow gotten the best of him without a word.  
  
Hermione analyzed the situation. Of couse, she was dying to torture him because he had not only just admitted that she was pretty, had apparently pouty lips, and was intelligent but that he didn't want to be a death eater after all. Not only that, she thought, but he didn't have anyone who he could talk to about it. But before she could think of what to say next Draco spoke again.  
  
This is all your fault, he sighed.  
  
My fault? She asked.  
  
Yes, because we're trapped in here and you're sucking up the oxygen and now I'm light headed. And the sugar's gone to my brain. Or I wouldn't have said anything.  
  
Draco slid all the way down to the floor and lay on his back, staring at the cieling. His socked feet were resting against her legs.  
  
said Hermione, you don't want to be a death eater?  
Draco sighed again and deciding it was no pointless to deny it all, said, Not so much.  
  
Since when?  
  
Draco thought for a moment. Since last year, I suppose. Once father started taking me to meetings. I always thought it'd be fun. Just a bunch of wand dueling and hanging out with warrior types drinking butter beer and seeing people shiver when the dark mark appears in the sky-  
  
Hermione yelped.  
  
Well, _anyway_, Draco said indignantly, it didn't quite work out that way. You have no idea how much beaurocracy is involved in the dark arts. It's just as bad as the ministry. Committees to form committees to have more meetings...  
  
The only reason you don't want to be a death eater is because it's _boring_, she asked incredulously.  
  
At first, he said. But then I developed an annoying habit called abstract thought. And that hasn't gone over so well.  
  
You mean you started thinking for yourself? she said.  
  
I guess. And never question death eaters about their beliefs, he whispered.  
  
Hermione leaned over peering down at him with concern.  
What did they do to you? She whispered back.  
  
he said simply, and a few other things that-  
  
She gasped.   
  
And anyway, he said quickly, like I said, I want to decide for myself what I-  
  
Forget that! She said shrilly.  
  
Draco sat up and looked at her, their faces just inches apart. Her eyes were full of sympathy.  
  
Don't look at me like that, he said disgustedly. All concerned and... squishy.  
  
I didn't know, he breathed. She looked like she was on the edge of tears.  
  
It hasn't happened for a while, he explained. Mostly I'm just an annoyance now. But father still labors under the delusion that I'll follow in his footsteps. I expect he'll try the imperio sooner or later.  
  
Hermione gasped slightly and he suddenly felt her hand on his knee.  
  
Getting personal, are we? Draco asked wryly.  
  
Hermione took her hand away and blushed but Draco could see that she was still gravely concerned. Draco, who certainly not used to this sort of empathy felt the need to abate it.  
  
It's alright, Granger, he insisted. It's not as if I have lightening bolt shaped scars across my back.  
  
Hermione gave him a look but her voice belied it. So what are you going to do? she asked.  
  
About what?   
  
About getting away from your father! She yipped. What's your plan to escape from becoming a death eater?  
  
Draco shrugged. I don't have a plan, he said. It's hopeless. It's inevitable.  
  
Hermione gripped his previously shrugging shoulders in her hands. She cried. Inevitable? What's the matter with you? What happened to deciding your future? What happened to the existentialist struggle?  
  
Draco took in her wide eyes and the rosy color of her cheeks. She was really worked up. It was quite sexy. And it was all over him.   
  
What am I supposed to do? He said. Take on the Dark Lord and a bunch of death eaters with what? My sparkling dinner conversation?  
  
Why don't you fight?! This is your life, you twit! She shouted. Do _something_!  
  
he said, and leaned in and kissed her.  
  
A/N Chatty, ain't I? Dialogue is everything! Woohoo! R/R.  
  



End file.
